Feu, 31, 1884. j 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



69 



fen md Bwer 



TROUTING ON THE BIGOSH, 



WADINC the stkk.am. 



!MIE Colonel drew me to one side and said, "You do not 

 intend to go with the Doctor aud wade to-day, do you? 

 I know that you care nothing for wading, more tlian 1 do, 

 and I am surprised that you talked of doing it." 



"Wading," said 1, "is not real enjoyment for me, and 

 perhaps I can do some bank fishing, you know that I agree 

 With ydU that the height of pleasurable fishing for trout is 

 on a, lake or si ream, Where one can sit on a hard seat uutil 

 his backbone gets kinked in five or nine different places, 

 and the lower end of it blooms like a cavalryman's, and then 

 to throw the fly near shore in the early season, or into the 

 spring holes later. Yet a change may be a good tiling in 

 making one return to his first love. Some one has said that 

 life would be endurable if if were not for its pleasures, and 

 Ins remark is true in many cases. A coal miner would be 

 happier if be never came out and took a sniff of fresh air, 

 saw the blue sky, aud beard Ihe robins pipe, (hen he would 

 think the mine was his natural place, and would know no 

 better. The sailor after months of hard labor looks to port 

 for a w r cek's carouse as the summit of all human happiness, 

 bul, must go to sea again." 



"Then," interrupted the Colonel, "I may assert that you 

 would be better off in the regular yearly rouud of your 

 labors than to have a vacation and spend it in fishing with 

 'we three.'" 



"Yes. There are men who claim that a vacation is not 

 only enjoyed but that they return to the treadmill with a 

 zest for it, but with me 1 ! confess to a feeling of regret at 

 resuming the harness after a vacation, which passes quickly 

 when in my opinion it should last forever. Therefore there 

 is truth in the saying. Now wading a stream is not so dis- 

 agreeable, it is a form of pleasure not quite up to boat fish- 

 ing, but far preferable to no fishing, or to being shut up in 

 an olliee, or a coal mine, besides our friend, the Doctor, wishes 

 me to go, as you will not, and it would be selfish to deny 

 him a day on the stream because I prefer the lake or the 

 river, 1 have waded many streams inniyyouuger days, and 

 enjoyed it, my taste has changed in this," but I can still get 

 some pleasure from it. Besides this, the Doctor is au accom- 

 plished stream fisher and I can learn from him; he is coming, 

 draw him out and get him to talk on his favorite subject." 



"There is no use in whipping a stream unless we can get 

 off in the morning or be on it toward evening," said the 

 Doctor, as he came into camp with his low wading shoes, 

 ready for the f ray, the trout do not usually rise well at 

 mid-day, aud it is nearly five now, and will be an hour later 

 before we wet our flies in the stream." 



"Do you prefer to wade up or down stream?" asked the 

 Colonel. 



'Tt depends so much on the stream," answered the Doctor, 

 as he sat upon the log upon which the Colonel was resting 

 one foot as he smoked, "that it is impossible to give an in- 

 telligent answer in a few words. No doubt it is the most 

 successful and scientific mode to fish up stream, butit is usu- 

 ally most pleasant to fish down. In up-stream fishing a short 

 line only can be used, and as it continually comes back to 

 you it necessitates constant casting. In this case the fish, 

 Which always lie with their heads up stream, do not see you 

 so readily, nor are they alarmed by any stirring of the bot- 

 tom by .your boots. This is a question on which anglersare 

 divided. For my part, I prefer to fish with the wind, let it 

 be up or down, because it is discouraging to have a breeze 

 strike you as you turn a bend and bring your line about your 

 ears. In down-stream fishing the current carries your flies 

 where you want them by governing their course 'with the 

 rod, and there is less exertion. A longer line must be used 

 because the fish can see you better, especially in shallow 

 water, and are conscious of a disturbance in the water by 

 the particles of sediment sent down as you wade. Of course 

 I refer to fly-fishing. If I used a worm I would always fish 

 down stream. If a stream has weedy margins and is swift 

 in the. middle, I always fish up stream." 



"Why this invariable rule for a weedy stream?" 

 "Because the trout lie above the weed beds, and as you 

 are effectually hidden from their sight and cast above them, 

 they rise more readily. When hooked keep a taut line on 

 him and keep him clear of the weeds, get the fish below you, 

 into clear water, if possible, and fight it out there." 



"Doctor," I interrupted, "it has seemed to me that when 

 1 have hooked a fish above me, and it starts down stream, 

 it is a ditlicult matter to keep a taut line on the fish. With 

 twenty feet of line at least, and the* fish rushing down 

 stream, past your legs, and possibly with branches overhead 

 to entangle your tip, I have found this easier to talk about 

 than to do," 



"Exactly," aeknowleged the Doctor, "I meant to keep the 

 line aw taut, as you can. When the fish gets past you into a 

 pool or into wider water below, bring the strain on it as 

 soon as possible without tearing the hook from its mouth. 

 A struggling fish in a weedy or snaggy place can often be 

 led into safer water by slacking the strain so as to give him 

 his head and follow, and gently direct his course, so that he 

 thinks he has it all his own way for a>hile. The fish, when 

 played up stream, plays much 'lighter and strains the tackle 

 less", and it is most desirable to keep it above you when fish- 

 ing up stream if you can. It is impossible to lay down in- 

 flexible rules for stream fishing, which is the most artistic of 

 all fishing, and requires more knowledge of the habits of fish 

 and changes of tactics to meet the varying moods of the 

 weather. We never find exactly the same conditions on the 

 same stream, and any one desiring to become a, successful 

 stream angler must fish at all proper seasons and in all 

 wi-afhers, no matter how disagreeable, for on the worst of 

 days we have good sport. I prefer a clear, lively stream 

 with occasional pools, as there can be found a variety of 

 fishing, such as dapping the flies in the rapids and cast- 

 ing La the pools, but this stream which we propose to 

 visit to-day, and which Jack has already christened the 

 •Little Bigosh,' promises from all accounts to be dark, 

 sluggish, and overhung with bushes. Cedar logs will no 

 doubt be plenty, aud there are usually pools under them 

 which are claimed by large trout which prefer solitude to 

 the company of their own species, which they drive off. In 

 such places a back- handed east is often necessary in order to 

 reach under the overhanging bushes." 



"i should think," said the" Colonel, "that it would be diffi- 

 cult to cast in the exact, spot where a trout has risen when 

 the water is moving rapidly and the bushes are low." 



"The bushes are always to be watched, but the cast must 

 be made a yard or more above the swirl of the trout," 



answered the Doctor, "for a fish is not so apt to rise to a fly 

 thai is behind it. he prefers to meet it. In coming to a deep 

 pool I prefer to cast from the most favorable side to the 

 lower edge at first, and so avoid disturbing the fish lying in 

 the swiff water above until I have picked up the stragglers." 



During this conversation I had stood all ready for the 

 start, and tried several times to stop the flow of information 

 which the Doctor was pouring out; not that I differed with 

 him, but because at school I had information pumped into 

 rne against my will when I would prefer to be fishing, and 1 

 have imbibed a dislike for all information.* 



The Colonel started in with another question, winch, no 

 doubt, would have been followed by a dozen more, had I not 

 pointed to the rising sun just showing above the eastern 

 hills, and called his attention to it by quoting: 

 " * * # 'tj s morn, and Jocund day 

 Stands tiptoe on the misty mouutain tops." 



The Doctor saw the necessity of action and we started, 

 leaving Jack untangling his line and the Colonel musing on 

 the charms of wading as compared with lake fishing. 



Fred Mathek. 



* In this truthful narrative T have tried to restrain the Doctor 

 froin pouring out his knowledge which, in his case, is the acquire- 

 ment Of a life-time, but when lie Rets wound up he goes it until run 

 down. I have cut down this chapter- lest I he suspected of trying to 

 smugg'e in a dissertation on fish ijig in the guise of a chronicle, of a 

 fishing trip. T liope the reader will not suspect me of trying to flip 

 a gilded pill down his gullet, that is peculiarly the province of the 

 Doctor. 



LUCK WITH THE LONGNOSES. 



ONE fine day last September the Doctor and the writer 

 drew up in front of the barn belonging to the owner 

 of the picnic grounds on the beautiful lake in M. It w'as 1 

 o'clock and the horse stood heaving after a long drive. We 

 quickly tumbled out, horse under shelter, traps overhauled, 

 and in five minutes were making our way to the lake. 



Arrived at the shore under the shade of a huge old hem- 

 lock, we took dinner, such a dinner as only hungry men can 

 enjoy, and washed down with draughts of cold spring water, 

 to take the dusts of the road away. 



After dinner, while we discussed a glass of grog and our 

 cigars, we laid out our plans. It was a beautiful day in early 

 autumn. It was warm aud fine after some cold rains and a 

 light mist clouded the air, through which the sun shone with 

 a soft light. A gentle breeze rippled the surface of the water. 

 I prophesied luck. Looking at the lake the Doctor said: 



' 'Up through this cove and across that point we used to 

 take some fine bass with the fly in years gone by, when they 

 were first put in." 



"Well, we've got the tackle here now, and we will try it 

 again," said I. 



All being ready we got aboard our boat, and while the 

 Doctor rowed, I made a number of casts with a whip made 

 up of approved patterns, We also trolled them gently over 

 some fine bass grounds, but never a leap did we see. At 

 length the Doctor grew tired . 



"Let us anchor in by that rocky bank and try still-fish- 

 ing,"saidbe. 



By this time the breeze had freshened, and little dancing 

 waves were plashing against the sides of our boat with a 

 musical murmur, it required both anchors down to hold 

 her. We now tried grasshoppers and crickets, and the 

 Doctor amused himself by using a handline also, baited with 

 ia worm, in hopes of taking some perch. All was calm and 

 still. The lake looked lonely and deserted; not a boat but 

 our own, nor a human being but ourselves, to be seen. On 

 the opposite side, a quarter of a mile away, where the lake 

 narrowed, the mountains came down steeply to the shore. 

 They were covered with a young growth of timber, whose 

 leaves, mellowed by the heats of summer and touched by 

 the first frost, showed the tints of autumn. Among them 

 the purple red of the ash was conspicuous. Now r and then 

 the sweet wild bell-note of the bluejay floated across the 

 lake through the soft mild air. Not another sound to be 

 heard save that and the murmur of the water. 



Soothed by the calm beauty of the scene I was fast falling 

 into a drowsy, careless state, when I was roused by the voice 

 of the Doctor, "This will never do. We must not go home 

 without some fish, or we shall be laughed at as unsuccessful 

 anglers." 



"Then let us change our place once more. I have had one 

 bite and you none. There are no hungry bass here that is 

 certain," said I. 



"We will cross over and anchor just inside that point 

 where the rocks jut out. We will see if there are any bass 

 or perch there. If we have no luck there we will try the 

 pickerel at the upper end of the lake." 



While the Doctor was speaking we had lifted our anchors 

 and our little craft was skimming along. The Doctor had 

 the oars and I was artistically "trolling a grasshopper of 

 mammoth size astern at. the end of about seventy-five feet of 

 line, more to kill time than in hopes of catching anything. 

 Just as we stopped at the proposed place a fish took the 

 grasshopper and struck out for deep water. "If he is a bass 

 he is not very large," said the Doctor, who was putting 

 down the anchor. My rod bent to the strain, but the run 

 was short and I thought the same. I put on a vigorous 

 strain, and in a moment he came alongside and was lifted in, 

 a perch of about a pound's weight, and a very fair size for a 

 perch, too, in that lake. "Well, we are after bigger game 

 than perch, but if we don't catch anything more here, wc 

 have at least got the wherewithal to seduce the pickerel," 

 said I. 



An occasional perch came to hand, but an hour wore away 

 and no bass. So we lifted anchor aud rowed up the lake. 

 We noticed as we went up that the lake had been much 

 lowered by drawing off water for the mills, some ten miles 

 away, to which this lake acted as reservoir. The further up 

 we went the more apparent did this become, until at last we 

 rounded a point, and the end of . the lake and also a curious 

 scene lay before us. The whole end of the lake which 

 usually covered many acres and was of a shallow, weedy 

 .character, lay bare from the lowering of the water, save 

 where a deep channel ran between the shore and the island. 

 This chanuel opened up into many little shallow bays in 

 which many gaunt stumps which had before been sub- 

 merged, lifted their withered arms in the air. The whole 

 extent of the old pickerel grounds had been contracted to a 

 small body of water. The Doctor and I gazed at the scene 

 in astonishment. It, had never been so low before. 



"Well, let us try it here for a moment, and see if there 

 are any fish left," said the Doctor, dropping the anchor into 

 one of the little bays. My rod was not well adapted to this 

 sort of work, and I was afraid I would strain the tip, but 

 nevertheless, 1 cut a thin strip of white belly from one of 

 our perch and twined it around a light gang of hooks. 



Drawing out about thirty feet of line I cast the bait inshore, 

 and in a minute the white lure slowly cut the waves. At 

 the second cast a large pickerel took it savagely, making the 

 water hoil as he seized it. I struck, aud in a moment he was 

 alongside and trying to get under the boat. Before he could 

 cut up any tricks he was jumping on the bottom of the boat. 

 Meanwhile, the Doctor had a stick and was getting his cap- 

 tive alongside. I fixed my bait and cast again, and in a 

 moment had another savage strike. Having snap tackle I 

 struck him immediately, and the next moment he was in the 

 air shaking his head wickedly, and then made a straight 

 bolt for the boat. I went to lift him in, when he calmly 

 opened his mouth and I only lifted the hoeks out, while my 

 friend swam off, looking over his shoulder, and no doubt 

 feeling happy. And here I would like, to say that I think 

 an angler loses a larger number of pickerel for a given 

 number of bites than any other fisb. I consider a pickerel 

 one of the wiliest fish that swims in the matter of getting off 

 from a hook. He never wastes his time in hard pulling, try- 

 ing to tear it out by main strength like a bass or trout, but 

 calmly bids his time till he is alongside and you have hold of 

 a short line when, with a sudden and desperate wrench and 

 jump, away he goes. How in the world is it that so many 

 pickerel which have been securely hooked manage to get 

 off? I think it is their very calmness and "loginess," as 

 many writers call it, that deceive you; one thinks that 

 they are all exhausted and played out, and that they are 

 coming tamely to hand, when in reality they are only wait- 

 ing to get an opportunity to bolt. There is nothing more 

 exciting in angling than the sudden, savage dash with which 

 a large pickerel takes your minnow, and if to this aud his 

 craftiness he only added the steady, stubborn fight of the 

 true game fish, he would be called a splendid game fish, and 

 this in spite of his ugly looks and ignoble haunts and associ- 

 ates. 



Well, we tried the bay a few moments and then rowed up 

 and drifted down the channel, just far enough distant from 

 the island to make a good cast inshore. The island used to 

 be quite a curiosity. It was not over an acre in extent and 

 made of driftwood, bushes, grasses, etc., held together by a 

 rank growth ef aquatic vegetation aud used to drift up and 

 down the lake under the influence of the wind. In the last 

 few years it seems to have taken root at the upper end of the 

 lake in the shallow water. Its sides, composed of the roots 

 of bushes, afforded some fine lurking places for pickerel. 

 As we passed along it they bit like mad. At every cast the 

 water boiled with a fresi strike. My light 8-oimce fly-rod was 

 being severely tested. Once as I made a cast an old veteran 

 took the bait with a splash that made the Doctor jump. I 

 struck with nervous energy and the next instant I saw his 

 head and body coming out till he looked as long as my arm. 

 Then with a vicious shake of his head he sent hooks and 

 bait flying. Wc used up a number of gangs; their sharp 

 teeth cut the lashings through and through, till in a short 

 time the gang was useless. We lost a great number, far 

 more than we brought to creel. It seemed impossible 

 to hook them securely. They seemed to "blow out" 

 the bait, as Francis expresses it. It was very irritating, and 

 one fish, a small one, aggravated his crime till I lost all pa- 

 tience and took summary vengeance in a way that made the 

 Doctor shriek with laughter. I made a cast and this little 

 wretch took the bait and allowed me to bring him along- 

 side, when he calmly let go and swam off slowly. The bait 

 was not injured, so I cast it over him as he went. 

 He took it, turning quickly, and the same result followed. 

 1 grew provoked; cast again, and again he took it 

 and escaped. I threw after him once more, and 1 could dis- 

 tinctly see him take the bait about fifteen feet away. This 

 time I laid plans for revenge, if he escaped being hooked. 

 I let him have the bait to gorge for awhile, and in the mean- 

 time I got a stretcher from the bottom of the boat. Then I . 

 struck him again and led him gently alongside and attempted 

 to lift him quickly in with my left hand. As usual, the 

 hooks and bait came but not the fish. But this time I was 

 ready, and as soon as he let them come out of his mouth I 

 hit hirn a most tremendous tlwack with the stretcher in my 

 right. No doubt he carried a sore spot for some time, and I 

 hope it taught him not to fool with anglers who mean busi- 

 ness. Meanwhile, the Doctor was taking it in with screams 

 of delighted laughter. 



Moral: Never forget your landing net when you go fish- 

 ing or you'll be sorry for it. 



. But now the sinking sun threw long shadows of the neigh- 

 boring hills upon tkewater and warned us our time was up 

 and that we should be homeward going. Fain would we 

 have staid for they bit as hard as ever, and we regretted the 

 time we had wasted in the afternoon still-fishing. It seemed 

 as if all the fish in the lake had gathered in that one narrow 

 channel. Though we had been there but an hour, as I 

 rowed homeward the Doctor strung sixteen goodly fish upon 

 a stout'eord, besides many we had used as bait and numbers 

 of little ones thrown back as they came to hand. 



There is nothing that makes an angler "wend his way 

 homeward" with such stif-c8inxilacency as a fair string of 

 fish taken in a brief, exciting hour after a long day of un- 

 successful fishing. 



Rapidly we drove through the gathering dusk, and as the 

 home lights shone out in the valley below us we felt we had 

 ended our luck with the longnoses. Peecyval. 



ANGLING FOR CHARITY. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



My attention hits been drawn to a communication from 

 Chicago in .your issue of Jan. 3, entitled "Probable Trout 

 lioggishness," calliug your attention to an extract from a 

 Scottish paper, anent a Mr. George Wilson, M. A. I am 

 sorry that your correspondent should use "bad words" 

 against a gentleman who is an utter stranger to him. My 

 long-time worthy friend, Mr. Wilson, now well on to seventy 

 years of age, is a retired school teacher, who, after thirty 

 years of active service in various parts of the world, finally 

 settled in his native country and county, intending to follow 

 his profession there; and with that intent studied and took 

 out a certificate under the new school laws of Great Britain. 

 Unfortunately for Mr. Wilson's active habits he 1 has never 

 been able to get a school, owing to the strong competition of 

 younger men ; and to prevent himself from being eaten up 

 with ennui he fell back on his old pastime of angling. To 

 show you what he does with the fish when caught I will 

 just give an extract or two from one of his letters of Janu- 

 ary, 1«80: "I undertook to supply eleven families with 

 trout. Nine of these families I supplied once a week, the 

 other two I supplied daily, reserving only as many as fur- 

 nished my own supper." "I never made any charge for the 

 fish which I freely gave away, even when I had not a suffi- 

 cient supply to meet the demands of my own supper." "On 



